


Of fighting and fallen things

by Bishmonster



Series: The thin line: A Harry Potter fix it [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Pair of Fine Eyes, Abused Harry Potter, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Discussions of Suicide, Discussions of abuse, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hermione Granger Bashing, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Gore, Pre-Slash, Ron Weasley Bashing, Slow Build, Starvation, Truth Serum, author has been watching jane austin adaptations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bishmonster/pseuds/Bishmonster
Summary: "This lady’s eyes were like Draco’s, only they were the sky after a storm. Not quite sure if they were ready to be blue again and Draco’s chose to stay in the storm, lapping up the gray chaos."Harry Potter gets to know Draco's mother.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Narcissa Black Malfoy & Harry Potter, Pre Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: The thin line: A Harry Potter fix it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086680
Comments: 51
Kudos: 331





	1. Chapter One: fallen toy soldier

**Author's Note:**

> posting is addiction. I wrote this on note cards and I thought it would only take an hour or so to type up and it just kept growing. so I decided to break it up into chapters instead of just one big read (this chapter is three notecards front and back, there are 26 total). I should have the whole thing up by Sunday, fingers crossed 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy.

Fisticuffs 2

“I can’t fight back at the Dursleys’”

The room fell to silence letting the shock settle in. The truth of Harry Potter’s confession was not in question. Draco could tell he was not lying. Potter said it in the way that he said all things truthful, with no inflection and a dead resigned type of stare. As if he were waiting to be called a liar. It was unsettling. Draco was sure he did not move, still Draco felt the reeling uncomfortable motion of apparition. A shift form one way of thinking to another was bound to create some form of inner struggle. Yes, Potter was telling the truth. Still, Draco could barely comprehend it. The whole of the wizarding community had been fed tales of Harry Potter’s exalted upbringing since the beginning.

Staring at the other boy, scarcely able to see anything other than Harry Potter, half naked, beaten and shivering with the chill Professor Snape’s dimly lit office, Draco did not understand. Analytically, of course, he knew what Potter was saying. It was the _why_ of the whole thing that was puzzling. Potter had been raised by abusive muggles, sure, but _why_ had he not been removed from the situation? Surely Dumbledore would not allow it to continue?

“Draco, Mr. Potter will be needing fresh clothing.”

Draco did not flee so much as seize the opportunity to think when his mother announced the need. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the bruises on Potter’s pale skinny torso. Bruises, Draco himself had inflicted. Had wanted to inflict since that very first day.

The Malfoy heir left Professor Snape’s office headed for the Slytherin dormitory. There was no way he could gain access to the Gryffindor tower without causing a ruckus. And McGonagall was still down in Hogsmead with most of the school. Barely a few hours had passed since their confrontation outside. Had it really been so short of time? Draco hardly remembered why he been outside in the first place.

 _I’ve been so blind_ , Draco thought. Perhaps he would need to borrow Potter’s glasses. Anyone could see Potter always returned to Hogwarts looking like death warmed over. Pale and sickly in comparison with his cohorts. And it always took months for him to look normal again. Well, as normal as could be for Potter. He was always so skinny. Lucky for Draco, he was not much bigger. With the height and slight build of a toned and trained seeker.

 _It’s different_ , Draco thought, folding a dark pair of trousers and a soft green sweater. Potter may not like he was going to end up wearing Draco’s clothing. It was time the git finally wore some decent apparel. Again, the obviousness was glaring when taken in that context. Draco did not mind lending his favorite sweater and softest pair of pants. A strange, anticipatory feeling skirted along Draco’s nerve endings. The green would match Potter’s eyes. Eyes that had haunted him all day.

&&&&&

Harry did not know the name of the woman hovering over him. Well, not hovering, she was too efficient to hover. Her quick hands were pale, slim, and unadorned. And while he still was not sure of her name, he was positive she was connected to Draco Malfoy. _His mother_ , Harry thought. A sickness similar to butterflies flitted around in his chest.

 _She smells pretty_. Not like a rose but something darker. Something beautiful and dangerous that Harry had not the slightest idea of a name. She smelled like the way he always imagined magic smelling.

And her eyes. Everyone never failed to mention Harry’s green eyes, his mother’s eyes. Avada Kadevra eyes. This lady’s eyes were like Draco’s, only they were the sky after a storm. Not quite sure if they were ready to be blue again and Draco’s chose to stay in the storm, lapping up the gray chaos.

The lady silently handed Harry several vials of potions. Some he recognized by taste. Some were new. None of them made him lose consciousness and that was what matter most to him. Snape’s presence made the consumption of the vials less worrisome. Snape was in the Order. He would not poison Harry just to please Draco’s mom. Even if they had been fighting earlier.

Harry shifted on the settee, surprised when his body did not protest with pain. The lady wanted him to take off his trousers. For some reason he was not embarrassed to do so with her help. Even with Snape watching, Harry only felt mild embarrassment. All they were going to see were more bruises and boney knees. His legs were so different now then during the Triwizard tournament. The flesh had emaciated with his confinement over the summer no matter how many calisthenics he pushed through in his small desolate room. 

“Only for a moment,” she explained continuing her examination. “Until Draco returns.”

Harry nodded, indifferent to the supposed indecency. At this point in the day, he was too drained to care.

“Mr. Potter,” the lady gained his attention with an intense stare and the lighted of touch. “May I see your hand.” Harry felt as if he was floating from whichever pain-relieving potion Snape had procured. And while this one had not made Harry fall asleep; it was powerful. Harry was glad for it. Avoiding sleep was why he had refused to go to the infirmary. The area was too exposed. Harry shivered thinking about the possibilities if he were found unconscious in the castle with only genteel Madam Pomfrey for protection.

“Mr. Potter.” Snape’s familiar sneer interrupted. “Lady Malfoy requires your hand.” Snape was leaning against the inside of his desk with his black clad arms crossed over his chest. He had been watching the whole encounter, only interrupting to hand over an additional potion to the Lady Malfoy.

“You’re other hand, Mr. Potter.” Harry wondered if he were actually hearing Snape’s dark voice laced with humor or if he were hallucinating from blood loss. Regardless, he lifted his injured hand to Lady Malfoy without protest.

“This is deep, Mr. Potter.” The Lady said unnecessarily. Harry was glad his suspicious of her identity were confirmed. “How many lines?” Draco’s mother asked.

“Total or just today?” Harry asked, unsure why he felt the need to share. Draco’s mother’s naturally full lips thinned as she examined the mangled flesh. The sight of it did not turn Harry’s stomach. At least all his bones were still in place. And, only the one rib had been splintered. The Lady had already cast the spell to repair it.

“Exactly how many detentions have you…” Snape paused his question then sneered when he found the right word to use. “… endured with Professor Umbridge?”

“Ten, sir.” Harry answered around the unwilling tightness in his throat. He was not sure if he wanted to share any information anymore. He had already given so much away. It was best if he kept his mouth shut. Much like the Potions professor preferred.

 _It’s not as if anything would change if they knew_.

Harry preferred if no one knew. He already felt weak. He did not need to admit to the affliction. Repercussions would be unbearable. Snape would never let him live it down and Draco?

Well, Draco already beat him into the ground. How much worse could it get? Harry could not hide from the fact. The humiliation would be worth it if Draco would stop being a prat and take his offer. There were so many more options for the Malfoy heir than becoming another one of Voldemort’s lackeys.


	2. Fighting the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry cannot control the things coming out of his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some mild Hermione and Ron bashing which I will tag. Also some gory parts. please be aware.

“Potter, it’s rude not to answer Lady Malfoy’s question.” Snape once again interrupted Harry’s introspection.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” Harry flushed, more embarrassed about his perceived rudeness than the fact he was slumped over almost sitting in a strange woman’s lap, half naked.

“How many…” Lady Malfoy began.

“Oh!” Harry interrupted her in his haste to answer. “A hundred.” He confessed, cocking his head in confusion when she gasped. “Oh!” he exclaimed again. “That was rude too. I did not mean to interrupt.” He said fervently and completely unlike himself. Where was his previous will to keep things quiet? Most peculiar. Harry continued on riding the floating truthful wave “a hundred today. Usually, there is only fifty. She did take it easy on me the first time though. Ten.” Harry explained. “Ten is not so bad.” The room was completely silent until Harry turned his attention to Professor Snape. “Did you give me veritserum? I’m not angry about it. It just feels weird. Like pop rocks in my belly.” Harry looked down to his bare stomach and poked the skin there. Odd.

Lady Malfoy huffed out a laugh, which was much better than the horrified expression she had been giving him.

“I’ll admit, it was tempting, but no Mr. Potter. I’m afraid your loose tongue is the side effect of the Unburdening Potion. Its magic makes the recipient ready to be _unburdened_ by pain as it does not have the ingredients to give a healing sleep. I had no idea the side effects would be this… revealing.”

“Huh.” Harry replied thoughtfully. He really should be angry. Instead, he could not find it in himself to blame Snape. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Severus,” Lady Malfoy spoke a dark soft way. “I need the balm.” She said as if there was reason to hurry. Harry could not suspect why. The damage was already done. “I’m afraid you are going to scar.” Lady Malfoy said kindly but not at all simpering like the way Hermione would have said it. Hermione had many good qualities. Expressing sympathy was not one of them. “With the amount of lines and the… “ Lady Malfoy paused, making Harry focus on the words she was saying and not on the faults of his friend. “swiftness of application, I will not be able to reverse the maltreatment of flesh.”

Lady Malfoy’s face was doing a strange dance of frowns. She was still bent over his hand examining the carnage. Harry was not sure how she could stand to look at the wound. The skin was torn with flaps folded back against unmarred skin. The red blood and pink of the muscle was foreign as it was familiar. Harry knew if he looked closer he would see pale bone. Strange how vividly he could recall before the year started when his hand was smooth with the bone safely encased under the skin. And just hours before with the fine white cursive marking him as the liar they all suspected he was. Now his hand was unrecognizable as belonging to Harry James Potter.

“I’ll add it to my collection.” Harry smiled at Lady Malfoy in a perverse attempt at humor. He like the way she had laughed before. He would like to hear it again. “Could you stitch it into a lightening bolt. To match.”

Snape entered the room just in time to hear the morbid request. “An interesting aesthetic, Mr. Potter.” The professor mused. “I don’t believe stitches will be administered. Magically knitting the skin back together is much more practical.”

“Shame.” Harry replied. “It’d be cool to look at.”

“Capitalizing on your fame brat?” Snape drawled.

“Severus.” Lady Malfoy snapped, surprising both males. “even I can tell this child does not seek attention.”

Snape looked flummoxed for a moment before rebutting. “Mr. Potter has only ever exhibited arrogance and a willful propensity to be the center of attention.”

“Has he?” Lady Malfoy asked.

“Honestly, Professor, if I could disappear tomorrow, I would.” Harry admitted. “Unfortunately, the muggle world is just as bad as the magical one and I’m hated in both just for living. When I’m not being cheered for surviving when my parents did not. Or when I’m being groomed to be a martyr. How, in either world, am I supposed to beat Voldemort with little education or expectations for continuing to exist?”

“You cannot possibly mean suicide?” Snape spat snidely. Which belied his sad countenance. “That is exactly the dramatic, selfish, disregard for the efforts put in place to keep you alive.” Snape’s voice rose with each word. Clearly, Harry had triggered a nerve.

“Do you really _believe_ I’m meant to survive another fight with Voldemort?” Harry asked quietly and directly. “I’ve not been taught… or trained… or given the slightest bit of information to…” Harry trailed off. “and then there are the horde of followers. Do you think they will let me live in the end? Having killed their Dark Lord?” he finished softly, staring at Lady Malfoy, red cheeked and wondering if his speech would be considered rude. Again, he thought about keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the night. Or forever. Forever sounded good.

Unfortunately, he was powerless against the Unburdening Potion. “Let’s not forget my friends who turn on me whenever I am not longer convenient. Do you think they will be there with me at the end? Do you think they will rally behind the champion, surviving the war the way Cedric survived in the cemetery, a ghost to haunt me anytime I close my eyes?” Harry was beginning to pant. If it was anger, he was unaware. He just knew that his close to ranting in the way Ron would sometimes go off.

“Besides, if I survive, I would be sorely disappointing my relatives.” Harry finished thoughtfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister said, and I quote "Do. Not. Change. It." so here it is in all its non flowing glory. Please kudo and comment if you liked!


	3. A continued exploration of previous battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa tends to Harry and Draco returns to find out the ultimate question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to apologize in advance. I wrote this at work on my phone with very little editing and much subterfuge. I will be coming back to this to work on the mechanics after I finish the next part!

Narcissa swallowed the bile building in the back of her throat. The poor boy on the settee could not have shocked her more if Lucius Malfoy had taken up needle point. This was Harry Potter? The bane of Draco’s existence? This poor starved and beaten child in front of her was the defeater of the Dark Lord? The dichotomy was beyond her comprehension. “Death is an option, Mr. Potter.” She said as calmly as her will would allow, with nary a quiver escaping. “It is not the _only_ option.” She reminded the boy.

“Oh?” Harry Potter tilted his head as if listening intently. His emerald eyes regarding her with interest beyond his years.

 _This boy is the same age as Draco_ , Narcissa thought. _And yet, he has been through so much._ Some of his hardships at the hands of her own husband. Narcissa mentally pursed her lips. Peripherally or not, Lucius’ maladjusted interests would not continue interfering with Harry Potter’s life expectancy.

“Do you know of a way for me to defeat Voldemort and live?” A small voice interrupted her resolution. A well of hope in the lone tear building in his eye threatened to drown her.

Severus spoke before she could respond. “You really imagine you are going to die?”

“Yes, Professor Snape.” Harry answered not looking away from Narcissa. “How would it possible? When I know nothing, have been taught nothing.”

“I could teach you.” Severus said. Her friend looked as surprised as Narcissa felt.

“Are you sure that is something you should offer?” Harry was looking at Narcissa the way Lucius sometimes contemplated Draco, confused by his presence.

“You do not know me.” Narcissa spoke up. Slowly. Finding the right words. “So what I say may hold no validity in your estimation.” She looked him dead on. “My allegiance has only ever been to the mother of magic and the safety of my son.”

“And your husband?” Harry asked as if to inquire about his standing with the Dark Lord.

“Makes his own choices.” She replied swiftly.

“I asked Draco to join Dumbledore’s Army.” Harry blurted out, looking around the cluttered office, expecting the Slytherin to pop out and punch him.

“What is Dumbledore’s army?” Severus asked, sounding only mildly curious. Narcissa knew he was seething inside. The gall of the Headmaster of Hogwarts to set up children as soldiers.

“I’m teaching some of the other students what I’ve learned. Like the Patronus. Ok. Mostly it’s just the Patronus.”

“Limited study guide then.” Severus commented with a sly smile. “And Dumbledore set this little extra-curricular activity up?”

“Oh, no, some of the other students roped me into it. They thought using Dumbledore’s name would be better than mine because half of the students hate me.” The child shrugged.

“And Draco’s response was…” Narcissa began.

“To beat the shit out of me.” Harry grimaced. “He’s much better at than Dudley.”

“Dudley?” Snape was clearly taking advantage of Harry’s compromised situation.

“My cousin. He like to play ‘Harry Hunting’,” the child made motions in the air with his fingers. Narcissa had no idea what the movement was called. She did, however, pick up on the heavy dose of sarcasm. “If I wasn’t fast enough, they’d catch me and…” Harry eyes went wide when he realized what he was admitting. “That’s why Draco and I never became friends. Too much like Dudley.”

“I guess that explains that.” Draco said from the entryway. Narcissa had not noticed his entrance. Her little dragon always had been light of foot. She wondered how long he had been standing, listening to the confessions of his nemesis.

“You were mean to Hagrid.” Harry Potter whispered looking tortured by the admission. “And then Ron and Neville.”

“I was 11.” Draco defended.

“So was I,” Harry said. “And you haven’t changed.” Harry said with all the truth he knew.

“Then why did you approach me with that ludicrous proposition?” Draco’s naturally pale face grew red with his ire. Her boy had never been able to hide his emotions well. Much to Lucious’ consternation. Harry Potter looked like he was going to be ill. Emotions she could not decipher flexed across his gaunt cheek bones. She could see the spew of information forming on his tongue and truth be told she did not want to hear it. Already there were too many _things_ that needed to be addressed.

“Boys.” Narcissa gently broke the tense silence. “We will discuss this later. Mr. Potter needs to rest. I’ve done what I could, time will only tell now.” She pursed her lips and with all the intensity of an over protective mother, addressed Harry. “You will be careful with those ribs. I was able to mend the splintered one, however, the bruising will have to heal on its own.

“Yes ma’am.” The teenager said politely. “Thank you for helping me.”

Narcissa nodded, pleased with his manners. “Keep your hand bandaged and dry while the balm does it’s work.” She instructed showing him how to wrap the dressing. How to secure it properly as to not cut off circulation to his fingers. For such a young man, he was quite adept at following instruction, which bore home the point; Severus had grossly misunderstood the-boy-who-lived. Narcissa leveled her friend with a steely stare, rival to the ones she gave Lucius when his fanaticism Became too zealous. “Severus will help you. He will also be supplying some potions to help with your previous… dietary restrictions.” Starved. The boy had been starved. Her diagnostic spell had always been uncomfortably accurate.

“It got better when they put in the cat flap.” Harry rushed to explain, the Unburdening Potion latching onto this truth since she distracted him before. “If they remembered.”

“How did they feed you before?” Draco scoffed. “And what is a cat flap?” He added in a more curious tone.

“It’s a swinging door about this big.” Harry held his hands 15 centimeters apart, pantomiming a small box. “It was more convenient to slide my food through than to come in contact with me or my freakiness.”

“You cannot be serious?” Draco reflected how appalled Narcissa was to hear the news. Those muggles were the worst kind.

“See it was better though, before I ate what I could steal out of the bin or could nick when Aunt Petunia wasn’t looking. I burnt the bacon too often, she caught on and after that it was much harder to get any food while I was cooking. This last summer Vernon decided I was likely to poison them all because I wasn’t sleeping…” Harry seemed to trip over his words. “I messed up too many times and Aunt Petunia took over the cooking. Since she couldn’t watch me while she was in the kitchen they locked me in my room so I couldn’t cause any trouble. Honestly it was the quietest summer ever.”

Narcissa swallowed. Once. And then again. She was having trouble keeping her stomach settled. Draco and Severus wore twin expressions of horror. She caught the potion master’s eye. And intentionally dropped her finely crafted occlumencyshield. Snape’s face turned to surprise and then immediately into resignation. He gave a nod of agreement unseen by either boy. Harry Potter would not be going back to the Dursleys.

“I see,” Narcissa spoke, the strain to keep her voice calm was nearly physical, “then it is absolutely essential you take the potions Severus gives you. It will only be until your weight comes up to acceptable levels. I will also provide you with a strict diet. You will need to stay away from sweets and…”

“Potter doesn’t eat sweets.” Draco announced trying and failing to sound bored by the exchange. Narcissa looked at her son, fully expecting to see a disgusted sneer. She only saw sadness and the tremble of his hand hanging loosely at his sides. He was just as affected by Harry Potter’s confessions as she.

“Very well,” Narcissa continued as if Draco had not made a faux pas. “Only highly nutritious foods while taking Severus’ potion. Agreed?”

“Yes ma’am.” Harry concurred with the sweetest shy smile. Narcissa gave her own small secret smile which faded as his face fell. “I’m sorry!” He blurted out in the way that meant he had no control over what came out of his mouth next. “But… why do you care?” The boy struggled to hold back each word. The fear on his face was disheartening to see.

“Mr. Potter!” Severus admonished.

“No. No. It’s fine, Severus.” Narcissa waved him away. “It is a valid question.” She assured the whole room. “My son and my husband have both shown a certain disregard for Mr. Potter’s health. I understand your reservations. I will only remind you that I am a mother.” It was clear none of the wizards were grasping her meaning. Narcissa continued on. “Had things been different, Draco could be in your place.”

She searched Harry’s emerald eyes for understanding. He gave a short nod. Still, Narcissa was not sure he _was picking up her point_ “no child should have suffered as you have Mr. Potter. It is my duty as a mother to ease your suffering anyway I can.” Her statement was a gross oversimplification at best. She was not duty bound just because she was a mother, it was more complicated than those simple terms. Plus, there was her responsibility as a healer. She had practiced her healing skills only when necessary since the war. The agony of the death toll became a burden she could no longer bare.

Harry was giving her the most doubtful look she had seen on his countenance thus far. “If that is true….” Harry hedged, “…then why didn’t Mrs. Weasley help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger city is my New address. Please forward any an all correspondence. Thank you for your time! On to the next one!

**Author's Note:**

> The struggle of finding the right voice, the exact POV was several days in the making and no less than four separate versions of the same story. I did not rage quit as much as I wanted to. My sister rallied the verve and here we are. again not sleeping.


End file.
